


Retrograde

by PartyhardDrunkard



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark!Chilton, F/M, Gone Girl references, Hannibal Season 3, Possible Stockholm Syndrome, Set after Mizumono, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:50:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3206495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartyhardDrunkard/pseuds/PartyhardDrunkard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It shouldn't be like this.  None of this should have happened.  Everything went backwards.  And now they're both stuck all over again.  He just needs to choose if he wants to kill her or save her.</p><p>Post-Mizumono.</p><p>Dark!Chilton/Alana Bloom</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heavy In Your Arms

Her breathing was labored, her mouth gaping for air like a fish out of water.  Her lungs must have been punctured.  Her blue eyes fluttered, opening and closing in an effort to clear her vision.  A strangled noise came out of the fallen woman's throat, ripping out like a baby's first cry.  She could feel the rain falling on her - it was a comforting calm and cool compared to what she was thinking and going through - but she couldn't see.  After the fall, she had been able to see the faint glowing of the moon through the cloud cover.  But, now she saw nothing.  And she didn't even know how long she had been that way.  Hannibal could have walked right over her and she wouldn't have even known.

 

Where was Will?  Was he okay?  Another gasping cry stumbled out of her raw throat - a pitiful attempt at calling out for Will.  She had doubted him and practically thrown him out at his greatest time of need.  She wouldn't have been surprised if he did the same to her.  But, something within her shattered body told her that something terrifying had happened inside Hannibal's house.  Where was Jack?  Will?  Abigail?  She needed to make sure they were okay, but she couldn't even move a finger.  The pain was excruciating, terrifying.  Where were the police and ambulances?  She blinked again, her bloody tears streaming down her face along with the rain.

 

"Somebody please..."  Alana whispered so quietly that she could barely hear herself, "Kill me or save me."  _That's all I'm asking for.  No more of this._

 

Almost as if someone had heard her barely whispered prayer, she heard heavy footfalls - running - splashing through the yard.  She couldn't turn her head to see who it was - not that she could see anyway.  She didn't hear any sirens.  Who was it?  She could feel someone kneeling by her side, hear their quick and terrified breathing.  Maybe it was just one of Lecter's neighbors.

 

"Who's that?"  She rasped, a finger twitching in the mess of blood, water, and glass around her.  Her eyelids fluttered again, blue hues floating around aimlessly in her skull.  Her chest heaved up and down and she wanted to reach out to the obviously speechless person there.  This time, her hand twitched.

 

Soon, Alana felt the warmth of another human being.  The unknown person there was holding her hand.  She wanted to smile, but she couldn't.  She was too focused on keeping her lungs working.  She gave the warm hand a small squeeze, letting them know that she was grateful for the gesture.

 

"I've got to try to pick you up.  It's going to hurt."

 

Wait.  Was that-?

 

"Doctor Chilton?"  Alana gasped, only to be answered with an excruciating searing pain ripping through her sides and back as she was lifted.  She let out an involuntary gut-wrenching scream of pain and she could hear Frederick stumbling through a string of 'I'm so sorry'.

 

"Wrap your arms around my neck."  Alana could tell that Frederick was exerting a lot of effort.  But, her arms still felt like burning lead.  She must have been like dead weight in his arms.

 

"I can't move my arms."  She whimpered, but before she could even try, Frederick was down on one knee and resting her broken body on his knee.  He gently reached down and wrapped her arms around his neck before slowly rising again.  It was all he could do to not stumble when he was upright.

 

"It's going to be alright, Alana.  You're going to be fine."  Frederick whispered in Alana's ear as he carried her.  He could see the flashing lights of the police and ambulance coming down the street.  The wailing of the sirens reached her ears and she felt a surge of something akin to joy flood throughout her veins.  Alana buried her head in the crook of Frederick's neck.

 

"Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you."  She whispered like a much revered prayer, her sensitive ears beginning to ring at the sound of the sirens.  They must have been right there.

 

She heard the sound of the ambulance doors opening, the sound of a gurney and paramedics.

 

"Oh my god.  What happened to her?"  One of the wide eyed paramedics asked.  He was obviously new at this job.

 

"I don't know.  Take her, just take her.  There's more people in there."  Chilton snapped.  Alana didn't blame him.  This was a very stressful situation.  If the roles had been reversed, she probably would have snapped too.  Well...no.  She wouldn't have even helped him.  She was indebted to him now.  He had probably just saved her life.

 

"You don't have to go back, sir.  We've got this covered.  Stay with the lady."  A police officer replied.

 

"Be careful.  I'm not sure if Lecter is still there or not."

 

Alana felt herself being laid down, strapped onto the gurney.  The warmth of Frederick left her.  She was cold.  She was freezing.  Her hand grasped at the air.  She wanted him back.  She needed the warmth.

 

"Don't leave me.  Come back.  Come back."  She rasped out and immediately the warmth was there again.  Frederick's hand swallowed Alana's, wrapping around it and holding softly, yet firmly.  He wasn't going to be letting go.

 

"I'm right here.  I'm not going anywhere.  You're safe now."

 

Alana smiled - a small, sad smile - and gripped at Frederick's hand as hard as she could.  Her sightless eyes floated over to where she was imagining his face to be.

 

"Thank you....."

 

And then she drifted into a dreamless slumber.

  


	2. Once Upon A Dream

A face flashed before her mind.  Plump lips, dark auburn hair, sea blue eyes swimming with tears.  Why did she recognize this face?  Who was she looking at?  Anna?  No...  Annemarie?  No.  Neither of these  were right.  Why couldn't she remember?

 

Wait.  Abigail.  Abigail Hobbs.  That was the name to go with the face.

 

Now her lips were moving, but Alana couldn't quite process what she was saying.

 

_I'm so sorry._

 

And then she was flying in the dazzling flash and crash of glass.  Flying through the air.  Flying through a window.  She was shocked, terrified, confused.  She had no idea what was going on and, before it was even registered, she hit the ground with an audible thud and crack.

 

And then she couldn't see.  All that was left was black and excruciating pain.  And a warmth on her hand.  Human warmth.  Whose warmth?

 

_It's going to be alright, Alana.  You're going to be fine._

 

Whose voice was that?  Why couldn't she see?  What was going on?  Where was Will?  She had so many questions and no one to ask.  She didn't even know if she was awake, asleep, or dead.

 

But, through all that, one name stuck in her brain.

 

_Hannibal Lecter._

 

Alana's sightless eyes popped open and she sucked in a gasp as she awakened.  But, something was down her throat.  Something was forcing air into her lungs.  A ventilator.  Her hands attempted to claw at it, but could barely move.  Her arms were stiff.  Her mind couldn't work to figure out that she was in a cast.

 

All that she could do was cry and try to scream to let someone know she was awake.  She sounded like a mouse to her own ears, but, in reality, her screams were blood curdling.

 

Will Graham was in the hospital bed next to her own, but could do nothing.  He was in a coma.  The closest person other than the hospital staff was....Frederick Chilton.

 

"Alana!  Alana, hush.  It's okay.  You're fine, just _breathe_."  The familiar warmth was back, cradling her head gently.  Finally, Alana remembered.  Frederick Chilton had been the warmth, Frederick Chilton had.....been her guardian angel.  He had saved her life.

 

There were sounds.  People were rushing into the room, nurses.

 

"Just get this thing out of her throat and leave.  You should have gotten here five minutes ago."  And, that was typical Frederick Chilton.  It didn't appear that he had changed all too much since he had been....you know...shot in the face.

 

Soon enough, Alana could breath properly.  She gasped slightly, relieved.  The people in the room left, but not Frederick.  He stayed, just like she thought she'd dreamed before.  She had the sinking suspicion that that dream was real.

 

"Can you take whatever is on my eyes off, please?"  She rasped, her throat hoarse from irritation and lack of use.  Frederick faltered next to her, his breath hitching within his throat.  His non-clouded green eye looked down at her with a mixture of pity and sadness.

 

"Alana...."  One hand moved from her head to the tips of her fingers.  They were the only part of her hand that wasn't in a cast, "There's nothing over your eyes."  _You just can't see._

 

Her brain slowed down.  She blinked multiple times and felt nothing on her eyelashes, nothing dragging against them.  She kept trying to deny the truth to herself, but it was pretty damn hard when everything she could do to debunk the claim failed.  Tears spilled down her face and she wished she could cling to Frederick, as foreign as that sounded to her.

 

"I..."  She gasped, coughing slightly on her tears, "I thought that was just a dream."

 

"Ssshh, it's okay.  It's okay."  Frederick whispered in her ear as he cradled her, understanding all of this better than she would possibly ever know.


End file.
